


Cry me a river, write me a song.

by quenchiest_cactus



Series: We just wrote songs and got tattoos [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ...because pain, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy ending though, Insecure Harry, Light Angst, M/M, Song: Falling (Harry Styles), Song: Walls (Louis Tomlinson), Songwriter Harry Styles, Songwriter Louis Tomlinson, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quenchiest_cactus/pseuds/quenchiest_cactus
Summary: Harry knows what it sounds like when Louis writes about him, and this isn't that. The music is great, but Harry can't listen to it without feeling like he's losing everything.Or the one where Harry blames Louis but not as much as he blames himself.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: We just wrote songs and got tattoos [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709623
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	Cry me a river, write me a song.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxbluefeatherxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxbluefeatherxx/gifts).



> So I was listening to Falling at 2 am (not a great idea, fyi) and I decided to make myself sad because why not. And I was thinking about how the entire second verse might actually be in quotes. So Louis is the one who's writing too many songs about Harry and has now run out of things to say.  
> This whole thing is dedicated to [xxbluefeatherxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxbluefeatherxx/pseuds/xxbluefeatherxx) who is my only companion at the bottom of this hole I've dug us into. She's also the poor sad sap who has to listen to my 2am Larry rants.
> 
> I don't own anything, obviously

**2019**

“H, please. I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“You never want to talk about this, that’s the problem”

“H, you know I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s a really convenient fucking excuse though, isn’t it?”

“H, just-”

“Actually, I think it’s _Mr. Styles._ That’s what the contract says, at least.” Harry threw the offending document onto the table and glared at Louis. “I _cannot_ believe that you didn’t tell me you were doing this. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to find this out from a fucking contract? Like I’m just another random extra? Louis, we _live_ together. I’m your _boyfriend._ And I should have heard this from you, not from your manager.”

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I didn’t think they would get the legal work sorted so quickly.”

Louis hung his head. He looked at the contract that his team had sent and closed his eyes. He had known that Harry would be furious when he found out, but he had hoped he’d have time to explain it away.

“You should have told me, _first._ You shouldn’t have decided this without me. We agreed that we were done with the stunts.” Harry’s eyes began to tear up. “Lou, you promised me we were done.”

***

**_2015_ **

_“A baby? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Louis couldn’t believe that this was the plan. “I mean, how are they going to explain this away later”_

_“Yeah, if they ever explain it.” Harry muttered bitterly._

_“Babe, you know this isn’t going to last forever.”_

_“I feel like we’ve been saying that for years, Lou. We keep saying that it’s almost over, but a baby? That seems long-term. And it’s so much worse than you having to date someone or me taking a hundred pap walks because it’s almost mocking us. You know how much I want kids. And now I’m going to have to see pictures and read articles about_ your _baby.”_

_“It’s a fake baby, H.”_

_“It’s still_ your _baby. And every time I see a picture of you with a pram, I’m just going to be reminded that we don’t get to have that.” Harry was crying now, and Louis gathered his long limbs into his arms._

_“We will. You and me? We’re going to get married and have the most amazing kids. You know I’ve always wanted that with you.”_

_Harry gave him watery smile and a small laugh. “Even as young as you are?”_

_Louis grinned at the inside joke. “I know it seems like too much right now, and it is. But because of this baby, you get to wear your Gucci suits and wave your pride flags and write your tearjerkers.”_

_“I know. And I love you for that. I just don’t know how much more I can take.”_

_“You won’t have to. This is the last one, I swear. It doesn’t matter how long we have to wait to come out or how many times we have to deny speaking to each other, I promise, this is the last stunt.”_

***

**2019**

“But of course, it wasn’t the last one, was it? Because you were out with Eleanor again. And I know, I _know_ that we were broken up, but that was your choice. I sat around reading the articles about the two of you and holding myself together and trying so hard to hate you and I was still there when you needed me. I came running so quickly when you wanted me. I feel like I’ve barely gotten you back and now, I find out, from a _contract,_ no less, that you’re staying with her for another two years?”

“Don’t kid yourself, Harry. You weren’t sitting around. You were touring the world in your floral prints and you were painting your nails and singing Medicine to the whole fucking world and the only reason you could do that is _because_ I was getting papped with Eleanor. I was taking care of you.”

“That’s the problem isn’t it? You’re always taking care of me. Because it doesn’t matter how many years go by. It doesn’t matter that I’m 24 and more successful than we thought possible, you always see me as that little 16-year-old boy with heart eyes that you had to protect. I can take care of myself.”

“You wanted to be your true self! I was just making sure you had the chance to!”

“MY TRUE SELF HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH LOUIS TOMLINSON FOR ALMOST A DECADE BUT BECAUSE YOU KEEP SIGNING THESE FUCKING CONTRACTS, I DON’T GET TO SAY THAT OUT LOUD!”

Harry didn’t yell often, and Louis was struck dumb at that. The green eyes that he loved so much were dark with anger and Harry took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself.

“You think I’m some type of idiot who doesn’t understand how the world works and you need to hold my hand and lead me through it. But, I’m not a child anymore and I don’t need big strong Louis to fix everything. Because you’re _not_. You’re not fixing anything. You’re just hurting me. But you’ve always been good at that.”

He didn’t yell anymore, but the quiet hardened voice he used then was so much worse.

“Harry-”

“You knew what I wanted. You knew that I wanted out of these insane PR stunts. But you ignored that because you really think you know better. You always think you know what’s best for me, for _us_. And that’s why you left me before. Because you thought I couldn’t ride out a little bad weather with you and you didn’t care that it absolutely shattered me to have you go. Because _you knew better_.”

“I love you. That’s why I did it. You didn’t deserve-”

“I _deserved_ to be treated better. I know you love me, and you think you’ve been helping me all this time, but its time for a wakeup call. It’s fucking selfish, Louis. Because even though you mean well, you keep hurting me and it doesn’t seem to make any difference to you. Because it’s what _you_ want. We break up when _you_ want. We get back together when _you want_. We sign the contracts that _you_ want. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of doing what you want.”

Louis sighed. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to speak without getting interrupted again and on the off chance that Harry let him finish a sentence, he wanted to choose his words carefully.

“Alright, Harry. What do _you_ want?”

There was a long pause and for a moment Louis sagged with relief.

“I want you to go.”

_Oh fuck_

Louis eyes snapped up to Harry’s. “Go? Baby, please, you can’t mean it.” Louis pleaded.

“You asked me, and I told you. Are you really going to ignore what I want, _again_?”

So, Louis went.

* * *

The next morning, Harry felt sick to his stomach. He turned over in his bed knowing that Louis wasn’t there because there was no arm around his waist and no warm breath on his neck, and of course, because Harry himself had tossed him out.

Harry stood by everything he had said but they never slept apart if they were in the same place and the sight of the empty pillow was enough to wrack him with guilt. He swung his legs out of bed and wondered if he had overreacted, if he should just call and apologise. But then, he thought of having to look at pictures of Louis and Eleanor for the next two years and pushed his guilt away. He walked downstairs and into the kitchen with complete purpose and a feeling of righteousness and _oh_

Louis was in the kitchen.

Louis was sitting in the kitchen with his face pressed to the marble counter and an empty cup of tea in front of him. And suddenly, the guilt was back. Louis only drank tea before bed when Harry wasn’t around to warm him.

“Have you been here all night?”

Louis shifted and looked up with bleary, sleep filled eyes (puffy too, Harry noted with a lurch) “I did leave, I swear. But it just didn’t feel right staying away, you know. I missed you, so I came home. Knew I couldn’t exactly climb into bed with you though.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you to go but I was just _so_ angry and-”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have told me to leave. But you weren’t wrong to be angry.”

Harry sighed and brewed himself a cup of tea before sitting down at the counter next to his boyfriend.

“But I shouldn’t have said the things I said either. God, Lou. I called you selfish. I said that you were keeping me from being myself. I know this hasn’t all been easy for you either and I was being childish so I’m sor-”

“Hazza, I didn’t come home so that _you_ could apologise.”

“What?”

“You were right. I shouldn’t have signed that contract without talking to you about it. And once I did, I definitely should have told you instead of letting you find out yourself. I promised you no more stunts and you’re right, I didn’t think about that when I signed. I just wanted to do what was best for you.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Louis cut him off. “Just let me say this. I get that I had no business making a decision like that for you, but baby, you have an album coming soon. And you’ve just started using pastels on your nails and you’re working with Gucci and I didn’t want all that to be overshadowed by you having a boyfriend. Because you _know_ that’s all anyone will talk about for months.”

“Are you sure you’re not scared about how this will affect _your_ career?”

“Of course, I am, H! I’m bloody terrified. But on some level, I’ve been ready for this since my first pap walk. But you? I just-”

Louis ran a frustrated hand through his hair and pulled on it till Harry stopped him, interlacing their fingers instead.

“I promised your mum that I would take care of you. And I _know_ , you were a kid then and you’re not anymore, but fucking hell, it’s a difficult habit to break. Sometimes I forget that you’re not the same anymore, because, _so much of you is._ You’re still everything I fell in love with at 18 and at 18, part of loving you was protecting you, you know? It’s practically a reflex. Doesn’t mean its ok, though. Trust me, I get that.”

Harry smiled at him and pulled Louis into his arms. “I love you. I should have said it last night, but I love you.”

Harry walked to fridge to start on breakfast and Louis just watched him in contented silence for a while, before speaking again. “You know, even though you think I see you as a teenager, I can promise you that I prefer you now to when you were 16.”

Harry snorted, “Of course you do, I didn’t cook back then.”

“You also didn’t put out.”

Harry let out a cackle and bumped Louis shoulder. “You can make your own bloody eggs.” he said in mock indignation before leaning down to kiss him.

Everything was good.

* * *

Everything was _not_ good.

Harry tossed and turned in his bed, frustrated. He had been in LA for a week while Louis was still in London and the time apart was making Harry crazy. It was almost three hours since Louis had called to say goodnight to him, but he wasn’t asleep. Instead, he was thinking. And that was a problem because without someone (Louis) to pump the brakes, Harry’s mind was a runaway train.

A few months had passed since the fight, but it was always playing in his mind. After breakfast that morning, Harry was sure that things were settled. And for the most part they seemed to be. Except for in moments like these when Harry was alone and had nothing better to do than think.

There was something between them that no one else would ever have noticed because nothing appeared out of the ordinary. They really did go about the way they always did. LouisandHarry, just the same as before.

Not long after the fight, Harry turned 25 and Louis was there, (away from any cameras, obviously) to feed him cake and then later to take him home for as much birthday sex as they could stand. And Harry was there in the studio when Louis recorded Two of Us, in case it became too much and then again to hold him, when Fizzy died and it _was_ too much.

And Louis watched Harry get dressed for the MET Gala and told him how beautiful he looked and tried to paint his nails before getting slapped away by Harry’s manicurist and grumbled about the fact that Harry should never wear heels around him.

Everything was so natural and happy and _ordinary._

And yet.

Something was off. Something, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, was off between the two boys. Harry was certain and at that moment he had all the time in the world to think about it. Louis was more cautious, he thought. Like he was always afraid that Harry might try and kick him out again. And Harry was more cautious too, like he was always afraid to hurt Louis. And over the years, they had been many things, but cautious wasn’t one of them. Harry didn’t like it and he rather imagined that Louis didn’t either. But Harry had hours to agonise over it and Louis was busy writing a new song for his album.

At that thought, Harry cringed in spite of himself. He had tried to be so supportive when Louis told him that he wanted to rework his debut album but lying there alone and in the dark, Harry could admit to himself that whole idea rubbed him the wrong way. He had loved Louis’ album before. How could he not? It was almost entirely about him. Every song was about how long he had loved Harry and how loving him was worth the hardships they had faced. The album was practically a love letter so Harry couldn’t really help but be offended when Louis told him it ‘needed something more’.

Harry wanted to sleep, he wanted Louis to be there to hold him, he wanted Louis to stop him from overthinking and he wanted Louis to release the original album.

_And you called Louis selfish. It isn’t like your whole album was about him._

Harry was determined to stop being so childish (he couldn’t help but see himself that way now). He was going to see Louis soon and he was going to hear the new song and he was going to love it.

* * *

“So, what do you think?” Louis asked with barely concealed pride. He was practically bubbling over with happiness.

Harry, on the other hand, was having trouble feeling anything but horror. Kill My Mind was a great song. It had the kind of sound and feel that he knew that Louis had been chasing and he wanted so desperately to love it as much as his boyfriend obviously did, but he kept getting stuck on one thing. _The song wasn’t about him._

Louis had written enough songs about him over the years for him to know that as a fact. He wasn’t worried about who the subject was, because he also knew Louis well enough to recognise that the lyrics were more on the generic ‘have fun while we’re young’ side. And he loved the song, he did. If any other artist released it, he’d probably play it at home, but Louis didn’t write generic lyrics. He wrote songs about love and longing and _Harry._

“H, what do you think of it? I think it’s going to be the next single.”

“Really? You’re definitely putting it on the album?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I’m buzzing just performing for you, imagine what it’ll be like in front of a proper fucking crowd?”

“Yeah, its great.” _Don’t say anything, Harry._ “Not really about me, though, is it?” _You fucking idiot._

“Yeah it’s not about you. But I’ve written so many about you at this point. Too many probably.” Louis laughed, oblivious to Harry’s growing hurt. “The album had to be balanced out properly. I was going to take Always You off, but the fans have already heard a bit of it, so that’s got to stay. But we’re going to add one more song at the end that Blackwell Duck’s written and make it a full 12 instead. Sounds good, yeah?”

And it did sound good. As a musician, Harry knew he was right. The album had needed something more. But as the guy who had spent the previous night overthinking his relationship (again), Harry couldn’t help but resent the new additions. There was only one thought running through his head. _Louis doesn’t have anything to write about you. He couldn’t even write the 12 th song himself._

But he couldn’t be selfish. Not when it was Louis’ debut album and he was practically shining with excitement. He couldn’t be ungrateful for the many songs he _had_ been given. Not when it was his fault that Louis had nothing left to write about him. He couldn’t – He couldn’t –

He couldn’t be there anymore.

He couldn’t sit there and want to pout and be petted, not when all this had started because he had accused Louis of treating him like a child. So, he made some excuses about jet lag and hurried out of the studio.

Later that night, Harry was at a friend’s house, standing under the shower, feeling sorry for himself. He couldn’t even go home that night because he was supposed to be photographed somewhere.

Normally, he would rather be cuddled up with Louis, but that night, he was happy for an excuse to stay away. He couldn’t look himself in the mirror, barely recognising the person he saw there. He wasn’t selfish, he wasn’t childish, he wasn’t this absolute dickhead who couldn’t be happy for his boyfriend who was putting together a perfect album. He had never been that person; he had always stayed away from people like that, except, that person was definitely in his reflection and Harry couldn’t meet his eye.

_No wonder Louis won’t write about you._

He couldn’t stay like this. If he stayed this person for much longer, he was going to lose far more than the ability to look in the mirror. He just couldn’t let go of that unfounded fear that Louis was edging him out again and he just wanted to wallow in self pity and feel a bit pathetic for a few more minutes. He needed to write.

He didn’t even bother with clothes. He just went out to where the piano was being played and started trying to layer lyrics over the melody while only wrapped in his towel.

_You said you cared, and you missed me too_

_And I’m well aware I write too many songs about you._

20 minutes. That’s all it took to write out the whole thing. That’s all it took for Harry to feel better. That’s all it took for him to put on his clothes (finally), go out and get ‘accidentally spotted’ and then rush home.

There was an empty cup of tea in the kitchen which meant Louis was already asleep. And even though he knew they were going to have to talk the whole thing out, at that moment, Harry just wanted to cuddle into his side. Talking could wait till morning.

* * *

“You were upset because I didn’t write about you?”

“No, Lou, of course not.” Louis raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Alright, yes. It did get to me a little. But the reason is important. I promise I’m not being childish.”

“I didn’t say you were, love. I’m just trying to understand.”

“We haven’t been the same since that fight. And before you jump to disagree, think about it. Something’s changed. I was never the type to get insecure around you, but I don’t know what’s different and it scares me. I can tell that you’re always watching your words around me because you think I might try and kick you out again, but, Lou, I swear I wouldn’t. I just- I just don’t understand. The fight ended months ago.”

Louis walked over to where Harry was slumped on the couch and nuzzled into his neck before speaking. “Hazza, I’m not watching myself around you because I think you might kick me out. I’m watching myself because I’m always trying to make sure that I’m treating you fairly. That I’m not taking charge and expecting you to follow because I know best. I’m just trying not to treat you like a kid.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “And in return, I’ve been _acting_ like a kid, oh god.”

“No, you’ve just been overthinking. Like you always do.”

“I just kept replaying all the horrid things I said to you that night, and how much I must have hurt you. And it made sense that you wouldn’t be able to write love songs about me after that. _That’s_ what upset me, you know? It wasn’t that you didn’t write about me, it was the idea that I had become the kind of person that you didn’t _want_ to write about. And I just regret that fight so much.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t regret it one bit. You had a problem and you told me, and we talked it out and started to fix it. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Yeah, I probably could have done without the night in the kitchen, but it was an important step for us to take. We’ve always assumed what the other wanted or needed. We didn’t really communicate, we just wrote songs and got tattoos. And that worked, right up until it didn’t. So, yeah, I don’t regret that fight at all. What I _do_ regret is that you didn’t tell me that you’ve been struggling all this time.”

“So, you haven’t spent all this time quietly beginning to hate me?”

Louis pulled on one of Harry’s curls and laughed, “Hate you? Darling, I’m not sure I know how.”

“It’s pretty easy to hate me sometimes, I’ve gotten rather good at it.” Harry mumbled into Louis hair.

“Good thing I’m too old to learn new tricks like that.”

The two boys giggled for a few moments before Louis turned serious again. “But honestly, babe. You should have come and just talked to me instead of writing that song.”

“I know. That would have been so much better. Not as good for the album, though.”

“You’re not wrong. You going to add it then? It sounds like it’d be a hit. Even got a few tears out of me, didn’t you?”

“Please, you were almost bawling. But yeah, I think I might add it. Just as it is, with only the piano and everything.” Then after a pause, “Kill My Mind is great by the way. I never actually said. It’s definitely got to be a single. I get why it’s your favourite.”

Louis chuckled before standing. “That’s not my favourite, love. Come on.”

Taking his hand, Harry allowed himself to be led upstairs to where Louis’ laptop was sitting.

“I wrote part of a song after that night you know. Another reason why I don’t really regret anything. The whole fight was totally worth the song.”

Harry bumped his shoulder and Louis smiled fondly before continuing, “I didn’t know how long you wanted me gone for, or if you were even gong to let me back and when we managed to sort it, I was so relieved that before I knew it, I had part of a verse, chorus and a bridge. Anyway, _this_ one’s my favourite. Probably going to name the album after it and everything.”

Harry listened as the opening bars of _Walls_ poured out of the speakers and he absorbed every single word. Even if Louis hadn’t already told him, he would have known that the song was about him. It was sad and hopeful and triumphant all the same time, and so full of love and _Harry_ that he couldn’t help but start to blubber a little. “I get it,” he sniffled. “Think this one’s _my_ favourite too.”

Louis pulled him in close and kissed him softly. “You can be a little ridiculous sometimes, you know that.” At Harry’s look of utter indignation, he burst into laughter. “I _cannot_ believe you thought I’d stop writing about you. I may as well have just retired.”

**Author's Note:**

> *is sad*


End file.
